Bleed You a River
by Platipus
Summary: Gokudera married Haru only to save Tsuna from having to choose between her and Kyoko. He told himself that the relationship was purely for Tsuna's sake, but he ended up having to examine his feelings when Haru suddenly died.
1. Tsuna

"Hayato," Yakyuu-baka's infrequently deep voice rang through my ears, "It's time to go."

I nodded. The two of us were the last to leave the fresh grave. Juudaime had left earlier, carrying his unconscious wife, Sawada Kyoko, back home. I stayed to make sure that no other famiglias would gossip around about Don Vongola's right hand man not caring enough for the death of a wife. I didn't, couldn't, bring myself to cry, but this should be enough to shut their blabbering mouth.

* * *

><p>"Hahi? Hayato-kun?" a familiar female voice called out, "Are you injured?"<p>

"I'm fine," I sighed wearily, "Just scratches."

The girl shook her head and strode to the door, "Haru will get the first aid kit."

"Oi, Baka-onna! I said it's fine!" I shouted annoyedly, "I'm off to Juudaime's to report my mission!"

She turned around and yelled back, "That's not good, Hayato-kun! If Tsuna-san sees you like this, he will be worried, desu!"

My mouth fell open, but no sound went out. Baka-onna was already out of the room when I finally got myself together. Sullenly, I threw my worn-out body to the nearest sofa. Oh well. I took a deep breath. She was right anyway.

The woman came back a few minutes later with a white box filled with bandages and medications. She treated my wounds while filling the room with an irritatingly long lecture about the importance of proper care for injuries. And more. My thoughts wandered far, habitually obstructing her voice from entering my mind. I was just recalling the latest issue of _Mysteries of The World_ when, out of nowhere, I felt a tender surface pressing my forehead.

I blinked.

Looking up, I saw Baka-onna kissing a just-plastered spot on the top of my head.

"What are you-?" my eyes widened in confusion.

Baka-onna blinked, too, "Eh?" her cheeks turned pink, "Ha-Haru was kissing Hayato-kun's wound better.. Didn't Haru say so?"

I stared at her, unbelieving, "Why would you-?" I stopped. I was well aware that there is no use in questioning her methods, having witnessed her idiocy a thousand times and over for years, even before I took her as my fiancee, "Oh, whatever," I finally said, "I'm off."

I got to my feet, waving my hands as a reply to Baka-onna's stuttered 'have a safe trip'. I spent the journey to Juudaime's office praising myself. After all, I have saved Juudaime from the huge amount of stupidity that Baka-onna throws around on a daily basis. For Juudaime's sake, enduring Baka-onna's antics is absolutely worthwile.

Purely for Juudaime's sake.

* * *

><p>I knocked on the heavy wooden door and entered Juudaime's office, "Juudaime, this is yesterday's mission report."<p>

The leader of Vongola lifted his head from the desk, "Eh? Hayato?" he blinked, "Aren't you supposed to be resting at home? Not even a week has passed since.." the man struggled to find the proper term, "..the funeral."

I forced a smile, "It's fine, Juudaime," I approached the don's desk and laid my report on the ever-present stack of papers, "I won't be worthy of the title of Don Vongola's right hand man if I were to drown myself in sorrow over.. things.. that are.. inevitable."

Juudaime's eyes only narrowed, openly worried, "Hayato.. You know I don't care about titles. Maybe you should-"

"Juudaime, please," I begged, "I'm fine. Really."

The boss fell silent. I stood as he weighed whether or not to trust me. He finally sighed, probably unsatisfied, but somehow willing to let it pass. He permitted me to leave, shaking his head hopelessly.

I have just reached the doorway when Juudaime called me again, "Err, Hayato?"

I turned, "Yeah, Juudaime?"

"Is this blood?" the man lifted the file I just put on his desk. He pointed on a trail of red marks along the left edge of the folder.

"Uhh.. Seems so," I raised an eyebrow, puzzled, "Where could the blood came from?" I scanned my body from head to toe, and twitched when I spotted the loose bandage circling my index finger, supposedly covering a cut I obtained for being careless in my most recent mission. Small drops of blood are dripping down the end of the white cloth. Strange. I'm sure I've tied the band tight enough. I shook my head fast and bowed deeply to my boss, "I apologize, Juudaime. I'm really, deeply, sorry. It shouldn't have happened. I'll rewrite the report right away."

"No, Hayato! No!" Juudaime stood abruptly, "Are you hurt?"

I shook my head again, "I am well enough to write another report, Juudaime. My wound is not too deep, it can surely wait."

Juudaime groaned, "Oh, stop joking, Hayato! Your health is more important! It shouldn't have bled like that if it's not deep! Go and have Haru tend-"

The man didn't finish his sentence, his eyes widened. It was clear that he was already regretting the words that flew out of his mouth. He then turned his face away, and said in an unsteady voice, "Go see Shamal.. Or any other doctor, if he refuse to treat you," he added in a lower tone, "It's an order."

* * *

><p>Tch. Of all the cars I could've ride in, why in the world am I in Yakyuu-baka's?<p>

The idiot that I've been cursing in my heart for almost an hour chuckled from behind the wheel, his natural qualities allowing him to drive far beyond the speed limit and annoy me at the same time, "Maa maa, Hayato~ What's with the grim face?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I scowled, "I'm stuck here with YOU!"

"Isn't it fine, Hayato?" the freak laughed, cheerfully, "Tsuna's the one who asked me to drive you to Shamal's anyway. He feared that you'd hurt your finger more if you have to drive alone."

Alone. I haven't been alone for the last month, or maybe even longer because of Juudaime's overprotective stance. I froze, "Yeah, well.. I'm here because of Juudaime. I wouldn't be here otherwise."

I have mentally prepared myself to shout some more at Yakyuu-baka, expecting him to let out another round of sickeningly gleeful laughter, but he didn't laugh, "Your finger," he said with concern so genuine that made me shiver just from hearing it, "It's been a couple of months and it hasn't stopped bleeding, has it?"

I stared at Yakyuu-baka for a minute. The traces of giggles have gone out of the window, his face looked serious, which is quite rare for him, considering there were no enemies nearby to slash. I cleared my throat, "No. No it hasn't. Which is why we're paying Shamal a visit."

He only nodded, and said nothing more until we reached the perverted doctor's residence.

* * *

><p>AN - Glossary:

Yakyuu-baka : baseball nut, the nickname that Gokudera made up for Yamamoto

Juudaime: the tenth, the nickname that Gokudera made up for Tsuna

Baka-onna: stupid woman, the nickname that Gokudera made up for Haru


	2. Shamal

Yakyuu-baka and I sat accross Shamal in the doctor's living room. The homeowner put three cups of hot espressos on the coffee table and sighed, stating his trademark motto, "I actually only treat women."

I rolled my eyes, bored, and Yakyuu-baka chuckled lightly while Shamal continued, "But since the Don of Vongola asked me himself, and that Hibari kid was glaring at me for answering the don's summon late which resulted in me interrupting his tightly-scheduled meeting with the don.."

I groaned, "Get to the point already, Shamal."

Shamal looked at me lazily and sighed again, "Okay then," he took a cup in his hands, "How did you get the cut?"

I leaned back on the leather sofa, "The tip of a knife thrown at me by my last hit." My last hit. A few months of being pulled out from missions felt like years already.

"Is it poisoned?" Shamal put a cube of sugar in his drink.

I shook my head, "Nope. I remembered the knife being dry, and while that's not very assuring, the thirty something doctors and their labs I have been forced to visit didn't find any kind of toxin in my system. They have also done numerous physical examinations and tests.. They concluded that I am perfectly healthy."

"Aside from the tiny bloody cut in your finger," Yamamoto took a sip from his milk-flooded beverage.

Shamal nodded, "Treatments?"

"Bandages, lots of them, all kinds of wound-healing remedies possible.. The chinese brat and her arcobaleno master even tried some herbal-thingies," I shuddered at the thought of the painful side effects from some of the most desperate tries, "And a certain surgery gone wrong."

Shamal snorted, "Yeah, I heard. The one that widened your cut because the stitch holes, too, emitted blood, and in the end made things worse?" He shook his head with pity, "Poor surgeon."

"Poor ME," I corrected as Yakyuu-baka left to get more coffee. Looking down, I griefed upon the expanding bandage on my pointer finger, which was currently mummified into thrice it's original size. Oh, and speaking of the bandage, it would need to be replaced soon. In a few hours, this fat lump of cloth would have turned scarlet, wet with blood.

"Yeah, yeah," Shamal giggled, "You've been taking supplements to compensate for your bloodloss, right?"

"Yeah," that reminded me, I haven't taken any since God-knows-when. I shrugged, that could be taken care of later, right now, there are more important things that have been bugging me, "Oi, Shamal. What do you think of permanently sealing my wounds? I mean, maybe with a plate of metal.. or Juudaime's zero point breakthrough?"

Shamal frowned, "I don't think that's a good idea.. I mean, it _might_ work. It might even enable you to carry out missions again, but what if you get more cuts? Are you planning to cover your whole body with iron? Or ice, for that matter?"

I winced, "I guess you're right."

Shamal sighed, "Have you had any.. unstoppable bleeding before in your life? Before this cut? Are you genetically haemophilic?"

"Aneki said this kind of 'incident' never happened in my childhood, either," I shook my head in response, "And noone's blood in my family ever had problems clotting properly. Well, except mine right now."

Shamal nodded again, "Then.. is there any difference, any at all, of this cut from the cuts you've got before?"

I dug my memories. From the fight against Belphegor alone, I should've tasted the blade of a few hundred knives, and they felt no different, so, "Nope."

Shamal spent a few minutes staring at his coffee, thinking hard, "How about the treatment? Any different?"

"Nope, like I said. Just the old, good banda-" I halted.

Shamal caught my hesitation, "What? What is it?"

I said, not sure what to make of what I've just realized, "Baka-onna.. She had treated all my wounds for over a decade."

Shamal's jaw dropped a little in surprise. Yakyuu-baka came with a pot of just-brewed coffee and immediately joined the interrogation, "Umm, did her.. methods.. of treating wounds not similar with the common method?"

"No," I shook my head slowly and turned to Shamal, "I taught her with the guide from one of your medical books."

Shamal stayed quiet, but Yakyuu-baka pushed, "Completely? No deviation at all from the guide? At all?"

I turned my head again, preparing to shout a loud 'NO' to Yakyuu-baka. But I stopped halfway.

No way. Impossible. It doesn't make sense at all.

The kiss.

* * *

><p>"You sure you don't want me to wait?" Yakyuu-baka spinned the stirring wheel left and stole a glance at me, "I'm totally fine with waiting, you know. I'll give you a ride home."<p>

"For the thirteenth time, Yakyuu-baka!" I growled, tired, "I don't need the ride. Drop me and go home, for Vongola's sake!"

The idiot gave me a look full of doubt, but he pulled the car in front of the cemetery gate.


	3. Lambo?

I walked out of the car and into the entrance. Yakyuu-baka still wouldn't give up, "Hayato, why don't we just come back in the morning?"

The lack of my reply seemed to have answered the question. Yet, being Yakyuu-baka, he tried again, "At least, can't I go with you?"

I snorted and cursed him aloud. One good thing about Yakyuu-baka is that he respects other people's wishes. He'd wait for me to come out till the next day if needed, sure. But he wouldn't go as far as tailing me if I were to say I don't want him to come along. There had been exceptions for this behavior, of course. Our first fight with Gamma was one, but nevertheless, I was pretty sure this is not one of them. His fluffy, soft heart wouldn't dare to interfere with my sudden -suspected to be emotional- decision to visit my late wife's tomb.

The walk towards Baka-onna's grave was unexpectedly full of surprises.

For one, I didn't think that I'd remember the way to her grave. I didn't even notice how I made it here. I felt as if one supposedly similar branch of every intersections and T-junctions of the cemetery complex always stood out somehow.

I was also surprised, well, not much, though, that the grave was well taken care of. The blanket of grass covering the mound was evenly trimmed, as if someone regularly come and cut it. On top of it, there were layers of varying breed of flowers. It was evident that visitors have been constantly arriving, most likely Aneki and Baka-onna's girlfriends.

I was well aware that, judging from the amount of petals, of all the people expected to visit and spread flowers on Baka-onna's grave more than just at the funeral, I was probably the only one that haven't fulfilled the deed. It was my first time here since.

Sasagawa Hana and Chrome Dokuro must have already came, at least once. I-pin and Aneki are most probably regular guests at this graveyard. Sawada Kyoko would surely go through typhoons in order to satisfy her newly found ritual to routinely offer her resting bestfriend a few minutes of company, but even the saint-like wife of Juudaime wouldn't think of expressing her sincere affection by paying her respect this late at night.

So my jaw dropped to see him squatting beside Baka-onna's grave, and past midnight, too! I raised my voice in suspicion, "What in the world are you doing at my wife's grave at this hour, Aho-ushi?"

The currently hornless, stupidest cow brat in the whole mafia world turned his face at me with his flat, sleepy expression, "Gokudera?"

"Did you get lost or something?" I started worrying, he didn't even call me Aho-dera tonight, "Are you okay? You must have hit your head again playing with the new bazookas the Bovinos sent, didn't you, Aho-ushi? You idiot.."

* * *

><p>Lambo sneezed.<p>

I-pin blinked, "Lambo? Are you sick? I told you not to eat too much shaved ice, didn't I?"

A pout grew on the young man's face as he reached for his cow-print handkerchief, "It wasn't too much. I ate just as much as I usually did."

The couple argued some more in front of the fireplace lighting their room at the Vongola Mansion.

* * *

><p>My bandage has turned red, begging to be replaced. I removed it absentmindedly. I felt blood gushing through my veins as the firm band loosened with every loop I pulled off. It didn't take long until a thin stream of blood formed from the opening in my scarlet-stained forefinger.<p>

"You're bleeding," Aho-ushi stated.

I rolled my eyes, "Obviously."

"Not really," Aho-ushi spoke back, "Not for you, anyway. Ever since you were a kid."

I halted, "What the hell are you talking about, Aho-ushi?"

"Your wounds," the babbling guy pointed a finger towards Baka-onna's gravestone, "They were not even close to obvious in your eyes, before she started making you notice them properly."

_"Hahi? Hayato-kun? Are you injured?"_

Her concerned voice sprung from the back of my head.

_"That's not good, Hayato-kun! If Tsuna-san sees you like this, he will be worried, desu!"_

She was.. the one who made me see the obvious?

I stroke my hair, battling an emerging fuzziness. I didn't predict that coming here would affect me this much. As I dragged my body to lean on the cold marble tombstone, my eyes unintentionally caught the sight of Aho-ushi again.

Obvious?

Were there other things that are obvious to everyone but me?

* * *

><p>"Hayato's not fine at all, is he?" Tsuna's voice was as gloomy as the raining sky outside.<p>

The beautiful woman across his desk shook her head, "Isn't that obvious?"

Tsuna sighed heavily, hopeless, "Where is Shamal, anyway? He's already two hours late. I can't wait much longer," he checked on his watch, "I have an appointment with Hibari-san later."

Bianchi shrugged grumpily, "I couldn't reach his phone."

"By the way, Tsuna," the other man in the room wiped the hilt of his sword with a cloth as he spoke, "It has been bugging me. Why did you send Hayato off on a mission immediately after the funeral? I just don't get it."

The boss of Vongola seemed confused, "I did what?"

"The mission," the wiping stopped, "The one that gave him the cut?"

"I.. wasn't the one who gave him the order. Actually, I recall that Hayato had already completed all his compulsory missions from before the day Haru was murdered. So the week after the funeral I just didn't assign him any new mission to allow him some time to grieve," Tsuna's eyebrows fell, "I thought the mission that got him into this mess was an urgent request from Ryouhei-senpai? Nobody else were available since a week's worth of Hayato's workload had to be split between us all, and it took me, Senpai, and Hana cooped up in the mansion the whole week to just get Kyoko to smile again. It was brutal."

Yamamoto shook his head, "No. I asked around. That's why I was sure that it was you."

"Hiee?" the Don squeaked, the habits of his younger self resurfacing, "Then who made him did it?"

"Didn't my little brother write you a report? Details of the mission should be in it, right?" suggested Bianchi impatiently, "Haven't you read the report, Tsunayoshi?"

Tsuna gulped in fear, "We-well, I was panicking over his finger, so I-"

"Just look for it already," Bianchi groaned a groan that made even Vongola's number one man pray for the safety of his meals.

"Yes ma'am," Tsuna abruptly dug his horrifyingly tall mountain of unread files. His rain guardian walked over to help him.

"Got it," announced Yamamoto after half an hour of flying papers and frustrated sobs. He waved the brown folder to Bianchi and Tsuna, then he opened it on the way to his seat.

"Finally!" Tsuna threw his body on his chair, relieved, "So.. Who asked Hayato to do the task, Takeshi?"

Bianchi put her teacup down, her gaze fixed on her brother's sworn rival, "And who would be such an urgent target anyway?"

Not a word went out of Yamamoto's mouth.

"Takeshi?" Tsuna called, his hyper intuition tingling.

Carefully, Yamamoto handed his friend the report, "The mission was to kill Miura's-" he shook his head, "I mean.. Gokudera Haru's.. kidnapper and murderer."

Bianchi's eyes narrowed, "What?"

Yamamoto's face was as white as a sheet, "And Hayato requested the revenge hunt himself."

A/N - Glossary:

Aneki: big sister, the way gokudera calls bianchi

Aho-ushi: stupid cow, the nickname that gokudera made up for lambo

Aho-dera: stupidera, the nickname that lambo made up for gokudera


	4. Romeo

_"Haru will kiss the wound better, Hayato-kun!"_

The kiss.

I've always considered the kiss as a burden. A sacrifice I had to go through in order to free Juudaime from having to deal with the foolish woman himself. So Juudaime could marry Sasagawa Kyoko. So Juudaime could be happy.

That was what I have always told myself. That all the things I did, the choice I made when I proposed, the responsibilities I bore for the bond, were for Juudaime.

But it was obvious for everybody else, wasn't it? That in truth, I-

"-need it..?" Aho-ushi's voice startled me.

I stared at the cow. No way. My thoughts can't be THAT transparent. I stuttered, "W-what?"

"New bandage," the cow sighed, "You need to put a new one, don't you?"

"Oh," my body relaxed a bit, "Yeah, right," I looked down to the sealed package of sterile dressing sticking out of my pocket. That was what Aho-ushi meant. My mind must've flown too high off the ground. Though, I couldn't help but think that the new set of cover for my wound is not what I really need for the bleeding cut in my hand. This mess of a finger needed Baka-onna.

Dumb finger.

I tossed my dirty, used cloth away and grabbed the new one. As I tore the plastic case open, I caught a glimpse of my red forefinger, out of it, my blood was still pouring steadily, now even wickedly dripping down my arm and staining the white shirt underlying my jacket.

* * *

><p>"We needed you," Bianchi growled. She clenched the knob of Tsuna's office door.<p>

Yamamoto had fled the room as soon as the three ended their discussion. Bianchi lingered just long enough to see the arrival of Vongola's cloud guardian for Tsuna's next appointment.

"Anna-cha~n, you look absolutely lovely today! Can I kiss you~?" the frightened cry of a girl followed the over-sweetened voice of a perverted old man.

Bianchi twitched.

"That's mean.. How about you, Daniela-chan? And I certainly wouldn't mind a peck on my cheek from your cute lips either, Valentina-chan!" another round of louder screams and hurried steps of the mansion's maids were the reply for the hungry wolf's call.

Bianchi's body was trembling when Shamal showed up at the end of the corridor, just across her, "We have spent hours waiting for you, Shamal," her eyes burnt with fury.

Lightning shone far beyond the tall window for a split second, followed by a series of thunder. The other side of the glass was wet, marks were left from the sliding rain water. It had been raining for more than an hour, but Shamal's overcoat was perfectly dry. Bianchi noticed that, and she wasn't stupid.

Shamal's eyes brightened when he spotted Bianchi, "Bianchi-cha~n?" he waltzed over nonchalantly - cheerful, even, "You must have missed me so much to wait that long, haven't you, pumpkin?"

"The only reason I'm not taking your life right now is because I need you alive to cure my brother," Bianchi let go of her tight grip and walked forward.

Shamal stopped when Bianchi passed him, "But, Bianchi-chan, you do know that I only do wom-"

"Treat Hayato, or I'll kill you myself," threatened Bianchi coldly before she turned for the stairs.

Shamal chuckled. Still cheerful, he reached for the door, but he aborted his initial intention to touch the handle. The doorknob was a disgusting mix of green and purple, melting with suspicious bubbles popping, fume hissing and things Shamal didn't want to know crawling on it. It has been turned into poison cooking.

The woman was dead serious.

* * *

><p>No. My heart ached. I sighed and shook my head, annoyed with myself. That was wrong. I put down the untouched wrapping on the ground.<p>

My wound wasn't the one who was dumb.

I was.

My wound wasn't the one who needed.. Baka-onna.

I was.

I needed her.

"-hurt?"

My eyes flickered in surprise, my recent introspection that the cow fanatic induced seemed to have made it harder for me to focus on our conversation, "Eh?"

"That," Aho-ushi pointed the tip of my index finger, "Does it hurt so much? You look pale."

I observed the most stubborn, most irritating holes in my body, "Nope. It doesn't."

I never seriously thought about how it felt. My head was a little dizzy, but my finger, it didn't really hurt right now. I guess I've learned to live with it. It was supposed to be a heavy weight that would slow me down, but was it, really? It actually helped me acquire some time to rest and, more importantly, think. Furthermore, without this adamant flow of blood, I wouldn't even realize how much Baka-onna really meant for me, let alone admitting it.

I chuckled, now this cut on my finger sounded very much like Baka-onna. She was supposed to be a constraint, confining me from the freedom I should've preferred, but ended up as a necessity in my life. An addiction. I sensed a mocking grin grazing my lips. A pathetic junkie unable to satisfy his craving. That fits me well tonight.

"I'm not sure that you're really okay," the cow brat commented hesitantly.

I threw him a glare, "What was that about?"

"Well, you've formed a lake made of blood, for one," Aho-ushi glanced down.

I didn't even bother looking, "So? I'm bleeding, you moron."

"Well, why aren't you tending to your wound, then?" I approved the logic in the question, but before I could either state my agreement or acted to fix the flaw in my actions that his question just brought to light, the spoiled Bovino hit me with his next chain of words, "And you look like you're going to cry, Gokudera."

Huh?

Me? Cry?

Terrified, I surveyed Aho-ushi's face for any signs to convince myself that the boy was joking. I was agitated when I managed to find none.

"Crying? What are you-" I let out a nervous laugh, "No way. I'm not crying."

"I didn't say that you're crying," corrected the cow-print pattern lover, though, his attire right now was cow-print free, for some reason, "I said you look like you will."

I grunted, "Nope. Not gonna. No way. I won't ever cry," especially in front of this person, who would surely made such a scene the object of his taunts for years and years to come, "Even if my entire life depends on me crying."

The guy giggled, looking disturbingly entertained, "Really? You won't set aside your dignity for a bit even if you can save a life by crying?"

"Nope," I replied as quick as I can, "I won't cry even if that will save my-"

Aho-ushi didn't bother hiding his curiosity, "Hnn~?"

"..my.. life," I completed my sentence.

"Why the pause earlier?" teased the boy.

Faces appeared on my mind, "No.. I won't cry for my life," I turned and looked at my fellow guardian, "But I will cry if it'll save others."

"Who?"

"Juudaime. My.. friends," my voice got weaker and weaker, in the end, it was no louder than a whisper, "Baka-onna.."

Aho-ushi didn't say anything, but I continued, strangely, I sounded as if I was begging, "I will cry right here, right now, if that would bring her back to life," my eyes felt hotter. I tried to stop my tongue from embarrassing myself any further in front of my younger comrade, but I couldn't. I just kept talking, "If it'll undo the cruel act done by her killer.. If it'll let me be with her."

I held my tears back during the silence. I have always expressed my feelings with shouts, curses and, even though I'd like to avoid it for Juudaime's peace of mind, violence. It never occurred to me that containing the drops from spilling would be this hard, not much easier than clogging the leak on my finger.

"I guess you're lucky, then," my faithful company finally spoke, "I happen to be able to.."

He paused before carefully finishing his offer, "..reunite the two of you."


	5. Reborn!

"It's rare to see you so gloomy, Yamamoto," the miraculous baby leaped to sit on the rain guardian's shoulder.

"Oh, it's you, Kiddo," Yamamoto glanced over, "Well, we just found out why Hayato was in such a hurry to go on the mission."

"We?"

"Me, Tsuna, and Hayato's sister."

"Which mission?"

"The one that ended up causing his wound after his wife's funeral," Yamamoto's gaze was cloudy, "Hayato requested a hit on Gokudera Haru's killer to be an official mission, then he went and claimed revenge by himself.. Can you believe that he took the trouble to process the request through Tsuna's desk and gained official approval first? Well, Tsuna didn't notice before in the midst of the chaos.. But damn, the guy even wrote a report and all, acting as if it was just another mission for the family's sake. That nutcase.."

"What's so bad about him doing it?" Leon yawned as his owner rubbed his head, "Did dame-Tsuna not want him to go?"

"No, not really.. Tsuna did intend to send Hayato on it, but not alone, and surely not that soon after the funeral."

"So the boss he admired so much hasn't commanded him to go, yet Gokudera went to track down the assassin to avenge his wife?" Reborn was interested, "That's unusual for him. He must've really cared for the woman."

Yamamoto nodded, "He must've told himself he did what he did so hastily for Tsuna's contentment. It seems the guy hasn't realized his love."

Reborn's face went grim, a man in prolonged denial of his feeling brought a familiar bitter taste to his tongue. An image of Luce sprang to his mind, ruining his first decent mood in months. He jumped down and walked in the direction of Tsuna's office, "How did it go with Shamal earlier this afternoon? Has he agreed to treat Gokudera?"

Yamamoto sighed, "He didn't even show up."

* * *

><p>"You should call Shamal-san and ask him to treat you, Lambo!"<p>

Lambo groaned, "I-pin, you're exaggerating!"

I-pin frowned, "No, Lambo. You're sick! You need to see a doctor!"

"It was just one sneeze, I-pin! ONE sneeze!" the young mafioso clawed his face in exasperation, "I haven't sneezed at all since then! Probably just someone talking behind my back! Now please, just let me get some sleep. I have an important mission tomorrow."

I-pin was quiet. Lambo thought the lover's quarrel has ended, but he realized that he was wrong when a river of tears cut across I-pin's left cheek.

"Oh, no," Lambo leaned closer as I-pin started sobbing, "No.. Sweet lotus, no.. I've sneezed a lot of times before. Why would you cry over this now?"

The girl shook her head, still weeping, "You shouldn't take it lightly, Lambo. I.. I don't want you to end up like Gokudera-san."

The Bovino's eyebrows rose, "Why is Aho-dera involved in this?"

"His finger, Lambo!" I-pin turned to look at Lambo in the eyes, "Gokudera-san was only cut once! But the bleeding never stopped! What if you sneeze forever?"

'_That doesn't make sense at all,_' Lambo rolled his eyes, '_I really don't get girls._'

I-pin kept staring at Lambo, "Kawahira-ojiisan used to say that sickness is just like ramen. You've got to finish them fast or they'll go bad!"

'_Is she kidding_?' Lambo's eyes narrowed, '_And what's with the weird comparison?_'

"Lambo? You're not listening, are you?" the young girl started sniveling again, "That's mean, Lambo!"

Lambo blinked himself back to earth, "I am, I am. Allright, I'll call Shamal, but I can't guarantee that he'll even examine me."

I-pin's body relaxed a bit and her sobs subsided. Lambo took his cell to the porch and dialed the doctor's house. For a brief while, the talk seemed normal, until he shouted a few times at his phone and threw it on the wall, breaking the gadget into tiny pieces of metal.

I-pin quivered in fear when Lambo came back in with a trembling body, "Shamal-san just said that you're really ill, didn't he, Lambo?"

Lambo panicked, "Eh? No, no! It wasn't even Shamal on the phone."

I-pin's eyes flickered, "Then who was it?"

"It was Reborn," Lambo said, infuriated, "He was at Shamal's house, for some reason. He said Shamal is tired from checking Aho-dera earlier tonight and is currently having an adult talk with him. The stupid baby told me I'm not worth interrupting their drinks."

"What about your sneezing?"

Lambo sighed, tired, "I'll go see a doctor tomorrow, after the mission."

The young woman haggled, "Before?"

"Fine. Whatever makes you happy, just sleep," Lambo climbed their bed.

"Lambo?"

"What now?"

"You called me sweet lotus. That was cheesy," the girl giggled.

Lambo's eyes widened, "Wha- Of course it's not! Lambo-sama chose the name!"

Lambo's face was pink when he rolled over to confront I-pin, but his face was nothing compared to the tomato-red color of the shy girl's cheeks, "I-I like it, Lambo."

The young man's jaw dropped to see the sight, "You're seriously forcing me to pass my cold to you."

* * *

><p>"I don't believe it! He forced us to kiss him, how disgusting!" the angry complaints of the maids assured Reborn that he picked the right turn on his search for Shamal.<p>

"Reborn?!" Bianchi's voice was full of surprise when she crossed path with Reborn, "I-I was crying.. I don't want you to see me looking this ugly. I'm sorry."

"That's okay," Reborn smiled as Bianchi ran, hiding her face. He continued his journey up the stairs, and as he predicted, Shamal was bending towards Tsuna's office door, "I heard you were late, Shamal."

Shamal didn't stop his observation on the poisoned doorknob, "Yeah, the pretty young maids slowed me down."

Reborn took Leon from the edge of his fedora and stroked the green chameleon, "Why did you try so hard to avoid having to examine Gokudera?"

Slowly, Shamal straightened his body, "How did you know?"

"Don't insult me," Reborn smirked, "I am the best hitman in the world."

"Well," Shamal chuckled, turning around, "Then you must have understood what I might have to tell his sister if I were to thoroughly check Hayato. I don't want to tell her that."

"Maybe you're meant to do it," Reborn suggested as Shamal walked past him.

"Maybe," Shamal agreed, "But I don't like making women sad. I fancy them, you know."

"Oh, but you must, Shamal," several loud bangs echoed on the walls of the corridor.

"Huh?" Shamal turned back again, just to find a smoking gun lying on the exact spot where Reborn was standing earlier.

The decorated wooden door had been shot open. Inside the office, the Don of Vongola's face looked horrified. Just across his desk, his cloud guardian trembled, hands squeezing a collection of papers torn with bullet holes.

"Herbivore," Hibari Kyoya stood and let the papers sailed downwards, his tonfas were ready even before the files touched the carpeted floor, "You are going to be bitten to death."

On top of the flight of stairs, a certain infant hummed and smiled ever so innocently.

* * *

><p>"Oh, hi! I didn't know the two of you are here," Yamamoto smiled as he walked into Shamal's kitchen with an empty cup in his hand.<p>

"Good evening," Bianchi greeted, "We are making sure that Shamal's not slacking off."

Yamamoto laughed while he hunted for coffee in Shamal's cabinet, "He's doing his job allright."

"Good," Reborn seemed happier than he should be, "Where were we, Bianchi?"

"The wedding," the woman took a sip of her tea, "Why did your pupil let my brother marry Haru?"

The baby hitman giggled, "Didn't Gokudera ask for dame-Tsuna's blessing himself?"

"Yeah, but Hayato never said that he loved the girl he was going to marry," Bianchi looked disturbed, "Even as I helped him put on his wedding suit, he kept on saying how the girl would be a bother to Tsunayoshi, how he was doing it for Tsunayoshi's sake. Does Tsunayoshi not care about Haru's and Hayato's well-being, as long as nobody prevents Kyoko from being his wife?"

"O-ho-ho," Reborn let out his santa-snicker, "What do you think, Yamamoto?"

"Well, Hayato did say that Miura- ugh, sorry. I always forget not to call married chicks with their maiden name.. _Gokudera_ Haru wasn't good for Tsuna, a lot," the swordsman was now digging the refrigerator for fresh milk, "But he never once said that she was bad for himself."

"That's.." Bianchi chuckled, "How did I not notice that?"

"Chill," Yamamoto cheered her up, "You still were the one who asked her to consider Hayato."

"But I doubted his feelings at first," Bianchi shook her head, "I'm such a bad sister.."

When Yamamoto said nothing, Reborn mimicked a shocked expression, "You're not going to deny her claim, Yamamoto?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't," Yamamoto's face was sincerely apologetic, "Tsuna told me that she has endured the loss of a lover once, some guy who looked a lot like Lambo, was it? But she made no effort to guide Hayato while he was going through his wife's death with her experience."

The woman's body stiffened, "I would if I could, but our situations were different."

"How?" Reborn inquired.

"I weren't at good terms with Romeo, my late ex-boyfriend," she poured some more drink, "Even now, not a single day passed by without me wishing to make him suffer more."

Yamamoto stole a glance at her, "You don't regret his death at all?"

"Maybe a little," she admitted with a dark grin, "Because I can't kill him when he's already dead."

After Yamamoto left to bring the refilled pot of coffee to Gokudera and Shamal, Reborn asked, "I didn't know you're the type who would have a relationship with a man you don't love, Bianchi."

"Oh Reborn, I do love you," Bianchi told him quickly, "And I used to love him, before things went wrong."

"How about him?"

"I'd like to believe that he loved me, too. But I'm sure that in the end," Bianchi stared at the bottom of her teacup, "He would very much like to kill me, torture me.. as much as I do him. Maybe even more."

* * *

><p><em>"You can reunite us?"<em>

_"Yep~"_

Bits of our conversation swam back and forth inside my mind.

_"Are you playing with me? This is not funny, you brat!"_

_The curly haired man only shrugged, "It's up to you whether or not you're going to believe me."_

He must have been messing with me. I was such an idiot to have taken it seriously, even for just a second.

_"How?"_

_"Wait here."_

Wait for what?


	6. Yamamoto

"Too long," Yamamoto Takeshi murmured uneasily as the light emphasizing a new day only got brighter and brighter.

The man went out of his car and ran through the slightly opened gates.

Bringing someone back from death is impossible. I tried to convince myself that Aho-ushi can't be serious. But then again, nobody believed that time traveling was feasible. Yet the Bovinos proved it with their bazookas.

_"Wait here."_

Seriously, wait for what? That brat..

Is the cow guy planning to get his ten year bazooka? Maybe ten years later, his mafia famiglia will have found a way to bring people back from death. But.. is that really possible?

Or maybe.. it wouldn't be about correcting what was already done. Maybe the brat was planning to have me shot with a ten-years-ago bazooka? Maybe I was going to be given a chance to prevent this to happen?

But even if that was true, how? How could I prevent Baka-onna's death?

The kitchen clock rang. It was already the start of a new day. Outside, the machine of a high-end sports car roared, signaling the leave of the guests for the night.

"They're done? Finally.." the woman said as she reached for a new bottle of wine.

"Bianchi, you need to stay sober," advised her drinking mate, "Share the coffee with me. It'll be enough for the three of us."

Bianchi's hand stayed in mid-air. She needed half a minute to -even then, reluctantly- pull her arm back to the side of her slender body.

"I didn't know you love alcohol that much, Bianchi," commented the doctor from the doorway, "And to think I have known you since you were illegal for me to touch.. Have your collection of boyfriends changed you?"

"Shut up, Shamal. Just sit," the young woman glared at the homeowner coldly, "You know how nervous I am about this. You promised to explain the result of your examination on my brother."

"Yeah. An examination and an explanation which I would have never agreed to do if Reborn here hadn't gone through great lengths to ensure my participation," Shamal stroked his hurting left shoulder, one of the many unfortunate victims of Hibari Kyoya's tonfa swings. He shivered at the memory of the awfully terrifying things he and Tsuna had to endure in order to convince Hibari not to murder Shamal on the spot.

"A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do," Reborn smiled so very sweetly, "Let's start, Shamal. We don't want to trouble you too much longer, do we?"

Shamal grunted, but he grabbed a cup for himself and started talking with a serious tone, one that he habitually hid behind the semi-parade of a perverted man, "I don't think I can cure Hayato."

The air in the kitchen got tremendously heavier. Bianchi took a deep breath and whispered, "Why?"

Shamal poured his coffee, not averting his gaze from the pot, "I don't even know what is actually wrong with your brother. I can't just drown him in a pool of drugs, can I?"

Silence hung for a few minutes until Bianchi raised another question, "I understand. But hasn't anything came to your mind at all?"

Shamal's eyed darkened, "I have considered several.. possibilities. But I can't prove any of them."

"Like what?"

Shamal warned slowly, "Well, I am not completely sure of anything at all, keep that in mind."

Bianchi's left eyebrow rose, "Okay.."

"The fact that they are possible doesn't make them true," the doctor carefully added, again.

As the mature beauty nodded, Shamal continued, "Don't let them harm you."

"Shamal, please!" growled the rose-haired woman impatiently.

Without letting his sight leave his coffee, Reborn chuckled, "You don't seem to want to have this conversation, Shamal?"

Slowly, the doctor turned his face to the baby, barely controlling his anger, "I don't. I've told you loud and clear," he hissed, "You know I don't, Reborn."

Reborn fixed his fedora, "You're already here anyway. Just do it."

"Shamal, when are you planning to begin your explanation?" Bianchi stared at the two men, suspicious.

The tired man's head rotated back to face his patient's sister, "Bianchi, you won't like this."

Bianchi only snorted, "I figured."

It took the unconvinced doctor a few more seconds to make up his mind, but in the end, he gave in, "My first guess is that Hayato bled because of psychological reasons. He wouldn't admit his real feelings for Haru-chan, but her death might have affected him much more than what he realized. That's it. Satisfied?"

The woman's eyes bore deep into Shamal's, she repeated, "Your 'first guess'? There's more?"

Shamal's grip on his coffee cup tightened. He replied, a little too fast, "Well, like most conditions in medicine, there are a whole bunch of other factors which might be involved. His diet, activities, unknown genetic defects, environmental hazards, maybe even side effects of the flames that we haven't yet discovered. I honestly think they're a lot less likely, so I wouldn't waste my time blindly digging into any. If you still want a list of them, though, I can make a list longer than a list of my favorite adult magazines' models."

Bianchi's focus didn't falter, "That was not something you'd try so hard to avoid, Shamal."

She was met with an awkward shrug, "Well, I can't help you cure your brother's broken heart, nor can I reanimate a dead girl, no matter how cute she is. That surely wasn't a very pleasant news for you?"

"You're hiding something, Shamal," it wasn't a question. It was a statement, one decorated with hostility.

The only sound filling the kitchen was the ticking of the clock and Reborn sipping his drink. Only after a few minutes later did Shamal put his cup down with a soft thud, "Are you sure you really want to hear this?"

"Absolutely," the female voice had no trace of doubt.

Shamal shot Reborn with virtual daggers, feeling overly mad and hopeless at the same time, "Then so be it.."

Maybe I should tell Baka-onna not to be with me? Ah, but that wouldn't work, since then she would be free to run after Juudaime. Her prolonging the competition with Sasagawa would definitely fish irritation out of the people who simply needed Juudaime's marriage settled as soon as it can. And then it'd be even worse, she'd probably just be targeted by people from allied famiglias, if not from inside the Vongola itself.

I groaned. How come is it that the storm guardian of the Vongola, who is feared by assassins, who has settled numerous deals under the most horrifying conditions in the mafia business, survived countless deadly battles, not able to find one –seriously, just ONE- safe way to ensure a law-abiding civilian to live past 25 years?

But even if I were to be able to find something to tell Baka-onna, would she even listen to me? I mean, her agreeing to be my spouse was already magical enough.

By the way, why again did she agree to marry me?

My mind went blank for a few long minutes. It felt weird. How come I have never asked her that? To think about it, there are actually a lot more questions in my mind that I haven't asked her. Like, the very basic: did she love me? Didn't she hate me?

Did I.. really not care about her feelings that bad?

I cursed at the chilling wind. How long was that brat planning to make me wait?

Ghosts sneeze? I pondered in awe. I wouldn't have known that if this filthy woman didn't badmouth me earlier.

What was that talk about killing me when I'm already dead? That greedy woman, I haven't even been able to take her life, and she planned to take mine twice? Bianchi.. she was seriously the biggest mistake in my life.

I sat on the kitchen counter, stealthily –well, actually, it's rare for humans to be able to see me, even without me doing anything- listening to my last ex-girlfriend talking to that surprisingly intelligent baby.

They didn't say anything interesting, though. I guess my stalking - I mean, spying - session on the woman tonight is pretty much useless. Just like the night before.. And the day before that..

I sighed wearily, hoping that someday my effort of haunting (definitely not stalking) that woman would pay off.

I thought some more on ghosts' sneezes. I'd say it was a very interesting subject. Do we, ghosts, spread diseases to other ghosts through sneezing, too? Or is it simply a natural reaction we brought from our living days?

I haven't found an answer to any of my questions when the silence of the kitchen pulled me back to boring earth. What's this? When did that old man join the conversation?

I once considered him as a possible future romance partner for the woman. One that I might be able to take advantage of. But since the time my eyes witnessed the woman throwing her phone to the wall because of the inspirational – I don't know about other people, but since I was, and should always be, even in death, a ladies' man, I appreciate the man's words and deemed them inspirational at the very least - voice mails he left on the woman's phone, I crossed him from my list.

Oh, and of course I have a list.

"Are you sure you really want to hear this?" his tone sounded serious. That's rare.

"Absolutely," that prideful voice.. I really want to break it, but how?

"Then so be it," the man -uh, what was his name again? Sammy?- continued with the same tone, "I think.. it's possible.. that your brother might be suffering from the effects of years and years of continuously taking various doses of your poison cooking."

Hnn, so the woman was poisoning her brother, too? I thought the talk would have been more surprising than the famed poison scorpion poisoning some guy? This planet is still boring.

"What are you talking about? Didn't everyone say Hayato wasn't poisoned?"

"Bianchi.. You know your own weapon. I've said it might not be true, but if it is.. It doesn't have to be detectable. Besides, Hayato's been taking it for so long that his body would probably just appear normal.."

"I.. I was the one who did this to Hayato?" the woman was trembling, some of her coffee spilling on the dining table, "Hayato.. he could've died.. Because of me?"

"Bianchi," the baby spoke grimly, "Your brother isn't going to die as long as his wound is properly taken care of."

Wait.

Her brother?

Her Hayato?

The person she loved the most in the whole world?

Bianchi might be in the process of murdering her own precious little brother?

"I've told you, Bianchi," I remembered that the talking man was Bianchi's family doctor, but still I couldn't seem to recall his name, "It might not be your fault. It might have all been caused by his mind. And, good for everyone, your brother's instinctively trying to help himself get better. He was just going to Haru-chan's grave. It's likely that he's starting to confront his feelings."

I dug my memory of the recent data collected from all the eavesdropping I did. So to summarize, Hayato, the essence of Bianchi's heart (after my death), hasn't been able to stop bleeding from his finger. One cause that might explain this is that toxic substances in his systems –put in by Bianchi- finally kicked in. All that it'd take to kill the guy now would be making him bleed to death, and didn't that doctor said that the poor guy's currently getting all messed up and emotional at his dead wife's tomb?

Oh, man. This doctor guy is seriously the coolest living person on earth! He made this disgusting ex of mine devastated and enlightened me with the golden chance to crush Bianchi's heart! Sweet!

With the sobs of my ex-girlfriend in the background, I went through the walls of that man's house. Straight to the graveyard!

My body felt heavy. The list of unasked questions seemed endless. I've already lost count. My head is spinning wildly, the neat thought pattern of my save-Baka-onna-strategy has been lost somewhere along the way.

Just now, I'm not quite sure why, but my resolve was fixed.

If I were to be able to meet her again, I'd tell her I love her, and then I'd say all the other things that I haven't told her. Ask all that I haven't. Be it through the Bovinos' technology, or some random shaman's service.

I'll say it: I love her.

"Hahi? Hayato-kun?"

"Tsuna?" Yamamoto's voice sounded grim as he shoved aside the curtains hanging as the temporary replacement of Tsuna's broken office door.

"Takeshi?" the grieving don answered.

Yamamoto handed his friend a newly written bundle of papers, "This is the report. You know, maybe you should read it later and get downstairs now. The ceremony's starting in ten minutes."

Tsuna nodded halfheartedly, more eager to read the file than lifting himself off his seat, "It's fine. I'm going to skip the prayers."

Yamamoto's eyes narrowed, "If you say so, I guess," and he repeated the sentence he has said a few hundred times in the last couple of days to Bianchi, to Tsuna, to their friends, "I'm sorry, Tsuna. I should have-"

"What are you saying, Takeshi? Stop it," Tsuna gloomily cut his guardian's apology, "It's not your fault.. Not Bianchi's.. Noone's.."

"Tsuna.."

"Please give me some time to myself, Takeshi."

The Rain Guardian shook his head, but his talent of empathy dragged his feet out of the depressing room, "Tsuna.. You're not alone in this."

The number one man in Vongola could only smile ironically. He knew that he wasn't the only one having to face the unwanted tragedy. Though, he wasn't sure whether that made the situation better or worse. Surely he had more people to share his burdens with, but that also means he had to witness more people whom he cared deeply of getting hurt.

Shaking the undesirable thoughts away, Tsuna started planting his eyes on the report he was dying to understand. The firsthand accounts of Yamamoto, which hopefully would explain how the young leader sending Gokudera to meet the best doctor he could find resulted in.. this.

The rather messy handwriting started with dates, timestamps, names, and numbers that Tsuna currently couldn't care less of. His gaze immediately jumped to scan the latter, seemingly more meaningful part of the script:

_...I was asked by Gokudera Hayato to leave him in the graveyard. Instead of doing so, I chose to wait for him just outside of the gates. It was around five or six hours later did I notice the sun rising, and, judging from the fact that Gokudera Hayato never showed up, I concluded that something wasn't right. I decided that I've given him enough time, so I proceeded to go to Gokudera Haru's grave in order to look for Gokudera Hayato. I then found..._

"Hahi? Hayato-kun? You're here!" exclaimed Haru passionately as she sat herself next to her husband.

"Baka-onna?" Gokudera blinked rapidly, "Why are you here?"

The girl pouted, "Hayato-kun is so mean, desu. You're still calling Haru stupid.."

Gokudera skimmed his surroundings, and, quite unexpectedly, located the man he was waiting for, "Lambo? What does this mean?"

The said person sighed, "First of all, if you haven't recognized me, Hayato.. My name's Romeo, not Lambo." His voice was bland with a vague tint of happiness, "As for your question, the answer is: You're dead."

"Romeo..?" Gokudera winced, "You're aneki's ex-boyfriend?"

"Hayato-kun.. Romeo-san was the one who told Haru that Hayato-kun was coming to meet Haru," Haru said in a low tone, "I didn't believe Romeo-san at first, because Hayato-kun was strong.. But Romeo-san said he'd make sure himself that you'd come here soon.."

Gokudera's face was furious when he glared at Romeo, "You killed me?"

The pleased man only shrugged, "Well, technically, you killed yourself, Hayato."

Gokudera punched the ground at his side, "Why are you doing this?"

A smile crept it's was into Romeo's face as he rose, "Any guess?"

Then, it struck Gokudera, "No.. Aneki.. You're trying to.."

"I can't wait to see Bianchi at your funeral, Hayato," with the same satisfied smirk, Romeo's body gradually ruptured into dust and vanished.

Gokudera cursed loudly, "You-"

"Hayato-kun," the sound Haru produced was meek, "I'm sorry, Hayato-kun.. Haru couldn't do anything.."

As he turned his face, Gokudera caught the sight of his wife starting to cry. He exhaled and reached her with his hand, "It's fine.. It's already done anyway."

Tears raced down Haru's cheeks, "But.. Bianchi-neechan..? And what about Tsuna-san and the others if you die, Hayato-kun?"

"Listen, we can't change what already happened. They'll manage somehow, they have to, and they will," Gokudera stroke her hair, a little rougher than what he actually planned, "Don't be such a crybaby.. At least we're together now."

"But.." Haru's sobs only grew louder.

"Sheesh, you idiot," Gokudera leaned closer to kiss her. When he finally broke the kiss, he whispered, "Haru.. I love you."

Bianchi's wails was loud. in fact, so very loud that it could still reach Tsuna's office, even when the woman was crouching in the garden several stories below.

Romeo stood in mid-air with utmost happiness painted all over his grinning face, observing the commotion caused by the woman he hated with all his rotten heart. Just as he wanted, Bianchi roared and screamed, claiming that her brother's death was her fault, oblivious to the desperate attempts of her family and friends to calm her down.

The paper in Tsuna's hand crumbled from his trembling squeeze. He tried his best to gently put it down, not wanting to damage it any further. Only with great effort did he manage to bring himself down the flight of stairs to deal with Bianchi.

To attend his right-hand-man's funeral.

In Tsuna's now-empty office, the wrinkled paper danced lightly when poked by the sneaking wind. The report continued:

_...I then found Gokudera Hayato's body, already..._

The last word of the sentence, even when compared with the untidy nature of it's preceding and succeeding scriptures, was especially malformed:

_...dead._

The dead man kept his words of saying everything which haven't been said, "I actually loved those little dumplings you cooked on new year's eve."

The girl lying in his arms giggled, "Really? You said they were hideous, desu!"

"Obviously I lied, silly. They were addicting."

Haru laughed cheerily, "Tell me another secret, Hayato-kun!"

"Sure," Gokudera slowly explored his mind while toying with the brunette's short hair, "Hmm.. I've got one.. Haru?"

"Hnn~?"

Gokudera looked straight into his wife's eyes, "One of my biggest regret is not being able to cry when you died."

Haru's smile softened, "That's fine, Hayato-kun."

The man's brows fell down, "It's not fine! I'm your husband! I love you, but I couldn't even bring myself to-"

His words was stopped with a shy kiss, "Hayato-kun.. You've done something much much better for Haru.."

Unbelieving, Gokudera maintained his frown, "Really?"

Haru nodded in assurance, "Yup~ Hayato-kun have done the most romantic act any prince charming could ever done to his princess, desu!"

"Charming.. Prince..?" one side of Gokudera's brows rose, "What did I do.. exactly?"

Gleefully, Haru pointed at the more transparent part of the surreal ground beneath them. Though they couldn't hear the shouts of Yamamoto, who was just arriving at Haru's grave, the two lovebirds could still see Gokudera's cold body leaning on the marble tombstone below.

Following the paragraph, Yamamoto prolonged the report with a more detailed description of the unnerving scene. He mainly noted the presence of a large pool of blood, streaming down from the top of the grave and continued further towards a lower plane of land.

What Yamamoto wasn't able to observe was that the overflowing dark liquid wasn't only moving above the brown soil. A trail seeped into the earth beneath it. It went deeper and deeper until the current stroked Haru's coffin. The red fluid then leaked through a narrow gap in the death box's hard exterior. Inside, gravity pulled the soaking droplets closer to the buried body. The now dying flow fought it's way ahead, and finally stopped when it circled what was left of Haru's little finger, making a smaller pool not visible from the outside.

Unfortunately, even the dead soul mates weren't able to see what lied below the earth. Therefore, neither Haru nor Gokudera had any idea how true her words were when she said, "Though Haru once told Hayato-kun to care for injuries properly.. Hayato-kun bled Haru a river! It's almost as if we're bound with a scarlet thread of fate!"

"I.. Bled you a river?"

"Yup~ It's so romantic desu!"

Slowly, Gokudera turned his head back to Haru and pulled her closer for a lengthier kiss, "I bled you a river.. That's kinda cool."

A/n:

I'm so very sorry for not being able to put and end to this fanfic sooner. Please blame real life!

I made this last chapter much longer from the others.. I hope it'd make up for the delay, and thanks for reading this fanfic! :3

June 2014: I revamped the story, ran a major typo hunt. I hope it's easier in the eye now. Enjoy!


End file.
